


Everybody is Someone Else's Secret

by suppertragedy



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, Paranormal, implied!Kris/Tao - Freeform, pseudo-scifi, time-travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:29:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suppertragedy/pseuds/suppertragedy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knowing a future, loving it, and having to let it go</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everybody is Someone Else's Secret

**Author's Note:**

> This actually belongs to a series I’ve never finished, but I think I can work it into a stand-alone. And I just feel like sharing some of my writing. Sketchy world-building is unavoidable, but I tried to make the scenario, i.e. the predicament and the dilemma the characters have to confront, as clear as possible.
> 
>  **Beta-reader:** [AvaCelt](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AvaCelt)

 

 

Kris heard his name in Zitao’s fearful shout before all the colors bled away as the world around him tilted sideways and spiraled down into a giant black hole. The angel closed his eyes tightly against the nauseous sensation and willed himself to endure it. The next time he came to, the sky, burnt bright and unforgiving with the summer sun earlier, was spreading out in melancholic hues of magenta as the last rays reclined against the horizon. As he struggled to sit up, in between his confusion and throbbing headache, he thought a piece of sunset had somehow fallen into his sky-ward palm. He blinked and looked again to see red on his alabaster skin. The cut ran deep and long in the crease of his hand, almost reaching his wrist, blood swelling into a small crimson puddle, running in thin rivulets down between the crack of his fingers and the slope of his palm.  
  
He licked his lips—a habit acquired from living amongst people, feeling his coarse tongue run across chapped and dry lips, the inside of his mouth a miniature desert.  
  
“Zitao.” He croaked, voice small and broken.  
  
He let his eyes travel around, recalling with hazy details that he was last indoors. But instead he found himself on an empty highway, surrounded by decrepit structures of something that might have once been majestic skyscrapers.  
  
Kris took one swift look at the communication gadget on his wrist, the screen came out blank as expected, but the blinking fluorescent buttons told him that the device wasn’t broken, only blocked or cut from its central system for some reason—the last confirmation to his suspicion. During his training days, he had been warned by his supervising archangels regularly about the danger of travelling through the rifts, along with elaborate instructions to manage (the correct term being “survive”) the occasion, however, he hadn’t expected it to happen in this fashion. The angel tried to commune with his celestial host, but all of his prayers for help and comfort went unanswered. Most puzzlingly, while the heavenly host was unresponsive, there were faint angelic presences scattered all over the Earth. His mortal shell shuddered when his Grace pulsated with distress. Two possibilities came to his mind unbidden—either the heavenly host had been destroyed, or Kris himself was being gated from Heaven.

But there was no use in agonizing over it, getting back to his time-line was more pressing. He had duties to fulfill, mistakes to fix, and people to be mindful of.

 

  
* * *

 

  
Kris let himself be drawn towards the energy force that was almost identical to his own—albeit somehow flickering and adulterated with other living presences, familiar and foreign at the same time. If this was really the future, Kris thought he had an idea why and how it came to be. His hand had stopped bleeding but the open wound looked angrier with jagged, blood-crusted edges. Ignoring the throbbing, he walked past wreckage and ruins of civilization. He tried to read into the time-line— _September 13th, 3024_. He was 15 years into the future. A wonder to see that this scale of destruction could happen in such a short time-span.  
  
Apparently, there would be a big price to pay had they failed their last mission, which, well, had already transpired in this timeline. His human heart lurched a little at the last memory of the event, but he steeled himself and kept his feet moving. He refrained from teleporting, afraid that bending the momentum of space could call unwanted attention to himself. He had no idea what kinds of enemies they were dealing with in this alternative.  
  
It took him hours to find a face he recognized, and although it wasn’t the one at the top of his list, the familiarity of it still worked like the sight of an oasis to the eyes of a weary pilgrim. Upon seeing him, the other person also brightened up with vivid joy. That Kris had expected, but he didn’t expect the next gesture at all. Sinewy arms looped around him, a hot palm placed against the small of his nape as the other person enveloped him in a crushing embrace.  
  
“I’m so glad you’re alright.”  
  
Kris could feel relief rolling in waves from the trembling body pressing against his own, the intimacy of it was most astonishing. Even with his nascent understanding of humans and their societal relationships, the angel knew they had to be awfully close to reach this closeness.  
  
The hug wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something akin to confusion because he had always imagined his first intimate contact with someone else. A certain person with piercing eyes, sensual lips that were always adorned with soft smiles. That line of thinking brought instant guilt to his mind, as always. He didn’t mean to favor anyone, or belittle the importance of this person who was hugging him, which went against the basic principle of angels—to love other beings equally and indiscriminately.  
  
“Are you alright? What’s wrong?”  
  
“I’m fine,” there was a pregnant pause before he breathed out the name with uncertainty. “Suho-ah.”  
  
Deep brown eyes looked up at him as wariness resurfaced in the tight line of the mouth. The Suho in front of him was in his mid 30s, soft round face had hollowed in, giving way for a more mature look with prominent cheekbones. His once lustrous hair was now cropped short and spiky. When he frowned, the edges around his eyes creased into apparent crowfeet. His sun-burnt skin made him seem much older than his actual age, but this newly acquired roughness also gave him a different kind of handsomeness and, perhaps most noticeably, an air of self-assurance that the Suho in his time-line lacked. The man aged well, the angel mused. His pensiveness seemed to arouse even more concern from the other man. He detached himself from the angel and repeated his questions. Kris didn’t miss the downwards motion of Suho’s hand either, and knew that he needed to explain before the other man blasted his face off. He wasn’t sure he could afford to regenerate right then.

“I’m not a shape-shifter, if that’s what you’re thinking.” His words poured out in haste. “Listen, I come from the past. I need your help to return to my time-line.”

The shorter man stopped short from his gun, an involuntary gasp escaped his lips.

 

 

* * *

 

  
They drove in silence (the magnetic-air cars were now replaced by those with actual wheels, speaking volume about the regression of technology of this future—present). Unspoken questions hung heavily in the air, but Suho was still a human and his patience could never outlast that of an angel.  
  
“So you said you came from the past. Which year was it?”

Kris gave him his answer.

“Oh.” Suho said, a recognition echoed in his voice.  
  
“What happened afterwards?” It was Kris’s turn to inquire. He didn’t elaborate his question but they both knew exactly what he was referring to.  
  
“As you can tell, we failed.”  
  
“I know that much,” the angel cut in, surprised by his impatient tone. “What happened to the others in the operation? What happened to Kai and Tao?” Against his will, the last name still came out loud and emphasized. He saw in his peripheral vision that Suho was grimacing, but the reason for it was unknown for him and he was suddenly dreaded finding out.  
  
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Suho’s voice was soft and gentle as ever, but his refusal to give a direct answer didn’t levitate the angel’s anxiety.  
  
“Not much,” Kris tried not to snap again, his fingers absent-mindedly ghosting over the still healing wound on his palm. “We were outnumbered, everybody was wounded, more or less.”  
  
“Out of us, Tao and Kai sustained the most injuries.” Suho added. “They were cornered and you tried to come for them. We all tried to.”  
  
His memory of that moment was slowly brought into life.  
  
He remembered the red stains on Kai’s pristine clothes, crimson peppered like freckles on a side of Zitao’s face, the narrow corridor filled up with lifeless bodies of both allies and foes. He reached for Zitao in the midst of chaos as the other young man mirrored his action. That was when the explosion started, and somehow it had thrown him into this future, but not before a flying piece of metal slashed open his reaching hand.  
  
“Kai and Tao didn’t make it. We almost lost you too, you were in a coma for months.”

“The heavenly host…”

“They closed the Gate, after announcing that there was no hope for mankind anymore. The Alliance has been ended. Don’t feel bad, Kris. I… hated them for giving up on us but it made sense you know. The Plague has destroyed as much of Heaven as here on Earth. Some of you chose to stay behind. _You_ chose to stay behind.”

“Lot of good—”

“Don’t!” Suho cut in, voice calm but firm. “We’ve had enough of this talk for the past few years. Your decision matters to me, and those who have known you. That’s all that matters.” He left it at that; it was obviously as painful to him as it was to Kris to recall the event. He didn’t need to go further anyway, the angel knew the rest of the story.

Kris felt like he should apologize, but he didn’t know why, could not fathom why Suho should care that he cared. So he settled for truce in his own way, “It’s alright.” The angel was unsure whether it was meant to reassure the other or himself, “we… I’ll fix it.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Suho looked away from the road ahead to stare wide-eyed at him.  
  
“I can change the course of history. Now that I know that was a trap, I could go back a few days earlier and abort the mission.”  
  
“Is it possible?”  
  
“It is. The course of time often splits into multiple routes at points of divergence, resulting in alternative realities. If we change an event before a split, all the alternatives will merge together to create a new reality, for better or worse.”  
  
“What I don’t understand though, is why didn’t the angels do anything this whole time? Why suffered from something that was reversible?”  
  
“Contrary to your biblical documents, angels can’t just travel through time at will, there has to be a dimensional rift, which only opens every fifteen years. They are unstable and difficult to manage, but not impossible to get through.” Kris added the last part after seeing a raised brow by the other man, deciding to leave out altogether the fatal danger of time travelling. “However, we—the angels won’t interfere anything that has been deemed hopeless by our High Council.”    
  
“Ah, that’s new.”

If Jongdae and Minseok had taught Kris anything, it was to recognize sarcasm. Although knowing that it wasn’t aimed at him, he couldn’t help feeling ashamed on the behalf of his kind. The need to make amend was overwhelming. “Fortunately…”

“Tomorrow is precisely fifteen years from that blasted day, a fortuity indeed” Suho finished for him, his tone was curiously flat. Kris had expected him to be elated by the aspect of a better future. He saw nothing but destruction in the current one. “So what will happen to this present if you change its past? Does it just cease to exist?”  
  
“I wouldn’t say so. A lot of things will change for the worse or the better, a few things will come to their ends later or earlier, but nothing will just flicker out of existence.”  
  
“Say, would that change my current relationship with people?”  
  
“Possibly.”  
  
“So there is no guarantee that we would fall in love with the same person if history is rewritten.”  
  
“No.”  
  
They fell into silence after that with Suho seemingly being intermittent to himself. Kris chased his own thoughts for a while before he recalled their earlier interaction. He was curious about his closeness with Suho in this time, even when the angel had been fond of the other man, this development between them was rather unexpected and intriguing.  
  
“Have you been looking for me—well, my current self?”  
  
His question seemed to startle Suho out of his reverie, “Ye-yes, you were on a raid for supplies and haven’t been back for days. I thought you were… him. Wow, this is confusing.”  
  
“I’m unharmed. I meant, my other self is unharmed. I can feel his aura nearby.”  
  
“Oh, that’s good.” Suho stole a quick glance at him. “Is there any consequences if you run into each other?”  
  
“It’s alright for us angels to meet our alternative selves. It’d be like meeting a twin. We’re not, to put it simply, the same people, you know.”  
  
“No, you’re not.” Suho chuckled, but it was strangely a hollow sound to Kris’s ears.  
  
“Are we close friends now?”  
  
A soft smile graced the other man’s lips. “What do you think?”  
  
“We seem to be a lot familiar with each other compared to the time I come from. The you that I know wouldn’t hug me. Back then you didn’t like physical contact.”  
  
“Well, I still don’t. But it’s ok with some people. You, for instance.”  
  
“We must be BFFs now.” Kris concluded matter-of-factly.  
  
That earned him a hearty laugh. “You seriously shouldn’t have hung out with Luhan’s lot. All the stuff they taught you was cringe-worthy, took me long enough to rid you of your embarrassing and obsolete one-liners.” But he sobered up by the angel’s expectant eyes. “Yes, we’re very close now.”  
  
Kris tilted his head in confusion, there was a telltale catch in Suho’s voice when he was caught speaking half-truths—Suho wasn’t a spontaneous liar, his lies always required elaborate planning and preparation to perfect. The angel’s sudden appearance had clearly shaken him, but why? Why the wariness and caution if they were good friends unless… Suho was lying about that. No, it was not that. Kris recalled their reunion and decided that Suho’s affection for him was genuine—his joy upon finding Kris was palpable, and so was his relief. So what was it?

It came to him out of sudden. _The best future you could hope for is one with the people you care about,_ Zitao once said. That was it. Suho wasn’t afraid of him, no, he was afraid of what he would do—to this timeline, which would in turn affect his relationship with the people in it. He must have someone he really cares for. Someone whose relationship he wouldn’t want to jeopardize for anything else, world peace no withstanding. But the next revelation was most startling of all, the angel didn’t know where this sudden insight of human’s complex emotions had come from, but the realization of it hit him like a meteor.

“You didn’t say we’re friends.” The angel stated. “You just said we are close.”

 “Took you long enough, chuckle.” Suho laughed, but the tails of his eyes pulled downwards with sadness. The sunset outlined his shape with bronze as the dying twilight bled into his dark orbs.

 “No, we’re more than friends now.”

 

 

  
* * *

 

 

_We’re more than friends now._

More than friends—a strange human preconception, since friendship was the foundation for a myriad of interpersonal relationships, romantic love included. It must somehow be understood on a primitive level, the lowest quantitative measurement, of a relationship. Subsequently, it perpetuated the idea that friendship was less developed and intimate than romantic love. From an angel’s perspective, ‘being more than friends’ was a nonsensical, non-informative, politically incorrect expression. On the other hand, Kris thought he knew what Suho meant to say. The angel proceeded to tell the other man that much and was met with a startled look, “What?”

“What is the appropriate status of our current relationship? Are we married? Engaged? Are we lovers? An item? Friends with benefits?” The angel paused for a split of second, browsing through another batch of terms to prescribe to human relationships. “Participants of a one-night stand?”

“Oh my god!” Suho made an exasperated groan; his expression took on a mixture of mortification and amusement. “Just last week I said that I missed how dense and technical you used to be. I even thought it was kinda cute. Oops. Either the karma god is playing me, or this is some kind of divine punishment for sleeping with a celestial being.” Realizing what he had just said, a ruddy tint began to spread out on his sun-kissed cheeks. He attempted to cover himself by pressing on. “Either way, you’re doing a great job at embarrassing me to death. Of all the things you can question, why the heck…”

“Titles and labels are not my concern, but they certainly help me to gauge the level of intimacy between you and my current self.” Kris explained while filing away the knowledge of their copulation.

Suho balked. “Good god! This conversation is harder than I thought, and not in the way I imagined it would be. Why couldn’t have I gone for the normal packages instead—you know, all the good stuff but essentially human. No offense, you angels are lookers, but once the mystical novelty wears off, you prove to be too much of a headache to deal with. It’s like talking to super machines in Godspeed. Or you’ll just entirely change and redefine the meanings of the words as we speak.”

“When a person openly criticizes or ridicules their romantic partner, it’s usually an indication of—“

“FINE! No fancy wedding involved. But all things considered, we’re married. Celebrated and witnessed by friends and family… Well, those who were left, anyway.” Suho waved his right hand briefly in the air, flashing a nondescript metallic band on his fourth finger—his wedding ring.

The angel tracked the movement of the hand with his eyes, his mind swarmed with thoughts and emotions that he couldn’t quite comprehend. The other man seemed to fidget under his scrutiny, reminding him that human beings didn’t like being observed for an extended period of time, for observation was always, to them, in cohorts with judgment and valuation. Ironically, Kris was, indeed, re-evaluating Suho, attempting to reconcile the man sitting next to him with his younger self of fifteen years ago. He turned away to put the other man at ease, but with his inner eyes he looked past the shell outside and compared the soul patterns he remembered with the new ones.

He could have probed his mind the way he used to when he needed information from his human associates and colleagues. Unfortunately, Zitao had once bound him with the promise that he wouldn’t do it to people whom he treasured, appreciated, and respected. Since Suho was Kris’s life partner here, then he considered him a part of the “treasured, appreciated and respected” group, which meant the angel couldn’t just go  _happy mind-digging_ —Zitao’s words—in his head.

“Does us being together bother you?” Suho’s tentative question broke both his psychic probing and his self-admonition.  _I know about you and Zitao_ was unspoken but still rang clear between them.

The angel chose his words carefully and decided to stick with the feelings he could recognize. “I admit the news took me by surprise; I will need some time to absorb these new developments. Time-travelling is a disorienting experience.”

“Uh huh, you don’t say. I think you’ve been taking it in strides though.” Suho nodded, cast a quick glance at the angel before turning his eyes back to the bumpy road ahead. His fingers drummed and tapped on the leather cover of the turning wheel, and the wedding ring once again attracted the angel’s interest. Kris thought he detected a hint of passive-aggressiveness in Suho’s manner, tempting him to do some probing out of frustration and curiosity. Talking to any humans beside Zitao was rather frustrating. Zitao was the only human he knew who always gave him direct answers and opinions. But then again, Zitao wasn’t wholly human either.

Kris could understand a person from studying their temperament, thinking, behavioral patterns, and their soul structure. To a certain extent, he could claim to know human feelings and emotions, but only in a finite number of arbitrary combinations.  _Stop using your telepathic power!_ Zitao had demanded with vehemence.  _It only makes you take our bond for granted. Intimacy has to be earned. Look at the person, observe them, see them! Ask stupid, hard, obvious questions if you have to. Take risks if you must. A lasting bond is one that is cared enough to be rebuilt after demolition._

Kris remembered smiling with fondness and some indulgence at the end of their conversation, without pointing out the problem of this tried-and-true approach. The human life-span was often too short, their endurance had limits. Angels, on the other hand, were immortal and their curiosity had no boundaries. An angel could break a person’s psyche just by simply asking non-stop questions. Not to forget, human beings were not so great at answering either. The no-telepathy policy thus only put them in an impasse.

Despite his rationality, Kris found himself trying to understand Suho without his mind-reading. “Does it bother you? That is, by whether I am being bothered by your union with me here.”

Suho drew a deep breath—the way a warrior drew air for a battle cry—and released it into a curt affirmation. “In fact, it does.” Either he figured out that beating around the bush with Kris would lead to nowhere, or he was just as desperate for some answers. “I can’t tell what you’re thinking. I thought I knew you.”

A common illusion of human beings.

“I don’t think knowing me will help you to know my other self any better. I—he must have changed since then.” He hesitated. “I don’t know how remaining on Earth without regular communion with the heavenly host will affect his being.”

“I see. So you guys, you and my Kris, are like long-lost twins.” Suho frowned thoughtfully.

“Yes, if you must require a simile.” The angel nodded, feeling yet another strange sensation of belonging with Suho, in spite of what he said about separated identities. “But he used to be someone I am, so perhaps I can offer you some insight on his temperament and behavior.”

“Okay, professor.” Suho snorted.

“But first we need to figure out how to return you to your timeline.” Amused but pleased, they grinned at one another. Kris really liked the new Suho, and he thought they were indeed more compatible than before.

They parked in a garage of an abandoned underground station, where Suho seemed to deem it safe enough. After turning off the engine, he pulled out a quick-aid kit from the glovebox and turned to Kris.  “Alright, how do we find this rift? Can you teleport or do you need a ride? And how are you going to get through it? Tell me as much as you can. And let me look at that hand while you talk. It doesn’t seem to heal like it should.”

Without waiting, Suho took a hold of the angel’s wrist and turned his palm upwards. Not a request then. The angel stole a glance at the other man, a similar memory of Suho tending to him in the past resurfacing, slightly changing the rhythm of his heart, which he acknowledged and filed away for later contemplation. “Once the rift starts to open, I can locate it then teleport myself to it. What happens afterwards might be a bit complicated to explain in human terms.”

“Well, try me.”

“I just have to retrace my steps all the way back home.”

“Try again. Too much dumbing-down. I can’t be that dim-witted in your opinion, right? And so help me, if you answer that question.” Suho tutted and tugged the bandage he was working on with just a little more strength to show his disapproval. The angel grimaced, out of embarrassment more than anything else.

“That’s really the basics of it. Think of walking barefoot on wet-sand. Now replace ‘footprints’ with ‘angel’s Grace’ and ‘wet sand’ with ‘time lines’. I can explain it in terminology of quantum physics if you demand, but that would be overkill.”

“Uh huh, so complicated in human terms.” Suho narrowed his eyes skeptically, but he decided to move on in the end. “Surely, there have to be complications. You’re not telling the whole truth.”

An assertive and perceptive spouse.

“I need an angel from my time to pull me through; I’m thinking of Kai. Of course, it’ll be best if I can come back just a bit earlier than my departing point so that I can prevent the explosion. If I try to manage on my own, I’m likely to be swept up in the torrents of time into another alternative. However, the communion only works when I’m close to the original departure. In the worst situation, Kai fails to bring me over in time, I’d end up somewhere else and have to wait for fifteen years for another rift.”

“No, the worst situation is when you are lost forever in the time-line.” Suho looked at Kris, really looked at him for the first time. His fear for him showed through his darkened countenance. He finished the wrapping, released the angel’s hand and broke their eye contact with a fragment of hesitation. The angel inspected the impeccable wrapping and tried to come up with some comforting information.

“If it’s any consolation, my other self shouldn’t be affected in case I fail. Like I said, the course of events has been split. I am now a singularity, out of place, out of time. My existence is no longer connected to my other self unless I get back to my present.”

Kris knew he said the wrong thing when Suho abruptly drew backwards and schooled his face into a mask of cool indifference. They had been doing so well. Where did he go wrong? He mentally tried to form different approaches but ended up frustrating himself.  _Why should I cater to his moods? He’s just a stranger with a face I know, only relevant due to a shared past that is long gone._   _My imperative concern is to survive the rift and fix_ my  _present._

He recalled with a pang of his last moment in his universe. Everything he knew was gone—his brothers, his comrades, people and things he came to care for, more than he should have.

His melancholy was disrupted when Suho threw some kind of garment or cover onto his head. It turned out to be a weather-beaten jacket with multiple pockets. “If my memories serve me right, the rift won’t show up for another half day. There’s a storm cellar just right behind this station. We’ll be safer there. Keep that jacket; it has spare communication devices and some necessities for travel in the pockets. Just in case we get split.”

The thought of being confined in a tiny closed space didn’t appeal to the angel, which brought his mind back to another concern. “Aren’t you going to keep looking for my other self?” The angel thought the other man turned rigid for a split second. “You said he’s unharmed, and besides, it’s unwise to wander outside during this hours. I know this place.”

_Trust me!_

“Very well.”

The cellar was bigger than the angel had expected, but it still offered him little comfort. It was cold, dry, and strong with the smell of metallic paddings. Herbal spices mingled in the air, a sure sign that some angelic spells had been created here before. A place built specifically to ward off demons, shape-shifters, and, given the right sigils, even angels. Kris wondered what the world had come to be.

Suho walked towards the suspended cupboard on a wall, his nimble fingers roved through a row of glass jars, plastic bottles, and sets of condiments. Unable to find what he wanted, he let out a frustrated growl.

“Asshole! He threw out my whiskey flask again.” Upon seeing Kris’s raised eyebrow, he barked out a laugh. “You angels have some high standards of morality. It’s the end of the world and you still wouldn’t stop preaching about the evils of addiction and alcoholism. Hey, I tried my best, but sometimes this place makes oblivion seem like a blessing. Now you’re thinking we’re an unhappy married couple. Great!”

“I’m thinking of no such thing.”

“I’m not an alcoholic or a junkie, alright. Your, sorry, his stickler syndrome can be annoying sometimes and I’m on edge.” Suho fumed.

“You are trembling.” Kris frowned, he stepped forwards and tried to meet Suho’s eyes. But the other man flung a hand out and stopped him midstep. “I need some space. You’re not the only one who feels claustrophobic, ‘kay? I’ll be okay. Give me some time.”

“Alright.” The angel stepped back but his eyes remained steadfast on the other man.

In the confined space of the cellar, Kris thought he could see the uncertainty of Suho’s younger self in his sharper and age-hardened features. The angel guessed Suho was upset because everything he had lived through was going to change in ways he couldn’t predict or control. And although Kris had no obligation to ease this man’s misery and grievance, he found himself wanting to clear some pain from those eyes.

“You won’t remember. If I change the past, that is. I, and maybe myself in this time line, will remember this alternative. But to you, it might just feel like a dream.”

Suho didn’t seem to be pleased by that knowledge. If anything, his expression was etched with greater pain, and he snared at the angel. “Should I feel thankful for your sacrifice?”

“That’s not what I meant. It might be painful for you now, but it won’t stay that way. I just think the thought might offer you some comfort.” Kris explained.

“Oh, well, it doesn’t. Telling a person who is in great pain that his anesthesia is coming soon isn’t soon enough. It doesn’t mean he will just stop feeling the pain.”

 “I know it’s hard for you. If I could make you forget right now, I would.”

“MY MEMORIES AREN’T YOURS TO TOY WITH!”

Kris frowned at Suho’s outburst, but the angel was only bothered by the fact that he had somehow managed to upset the other man even more.

“Suho…” The angel reached out to him but he moved away.

“HAVE YOU BEEN WANTING TO CHANGE THE PAST ALL THIS TIME?” Suho bellowed.

That was a strange question. “Of course, it’s—Oh!” Kris was stunned into silence. He felt like an imbecile for not being able to understand it earlier. Suho took that for a tacit agreement, and a triumphant but sardonic smile adorned his lips. “I thought so. Aren’t you glad you’ll get a second chance with Zitao?”

Envy. So that’s what it was. Out of all the deadly sins, Kris had the least tolerance for it. The recognition drove him to say things he didn’t plan to.

“You don’t understand.” He said, cold ire punctuating his voice. “We angels don’t love and lust the way you people do. We don’t bind ourselves to ephemeral existence for entertainment or out of curiosity. That would be the equivalence of human’s sadism. I’ve been an angel for a long time before I came to Earth, long before you came along. You may think we are much wiser and know everything there is about humanity. But having wisdom and knowledge of something is different from living it and being it. I may imitate you well enough but I will never become one of you. Even if I lose my Grace and get stranded on Earth, I will not wholly become human. I might see what you want, but I might not be able to give it to you. And when I say I’ll remember, I mean it. I’ll remember you, remember loving you, and being loved by you in this time-line for as long as I exist. I will live with the paradox of having a future that will never transpire for millennia.”

Suho flinched as if he had been punched, anger drained out of him as fast as it had possessed him. He stepped backwards and braced himself against the wall. The sight of his defeated posture doused the angel’s own wrath. Kris had only meant to cheer the other man up, and now he felt like casting himself into the Inferno as Luhan’s voice sing-songed in his head _, Hallelujah, bang-up job you did_.

Closing his eyes in shame, Kris waved away the memories of his mischievous colleague and rummaged his chambers of knowledge for something that could help to salvage the situation.  _Humor can dispel tension like a charm,_ Jongdae quirked a smile at him. Oh, what would people say after tearing each other apart like that?

 

“So… I guess this is how a domestic dispute feels like.”

“Oh, you…”  Suho shot him an incredulous look.

 

The angel immediately understood what it meant to “feel like a dumbass.”

But to his amazement, the tactic also seemed to work—a corner of Suho’s lips peeled up in spite of his scowl. At the angel’s hopeful look, the man bit his lips and looked away, but he did seem to calm down a little. Although his dark brown eyes still looked sad, they were clear of resentment and anger. As the angel observed Suho, he was amazed by his attentiveness to this man—someone he had once thought of as a stranger. Was it genuine concern, a learnt mannerism he picked up from his human associates, or the side effect of being in a confluence of alternative realities? It dawned on him that he might be fine-tuning to this reality and began to look at Suho as someone whom he would like to get intimate with. A complication he really didn’t need now.

After some time, Suho let out an audible sigh and pushed himself from the wall. He opened the cupboard again, took out two bottles of clear water and offered one to Kris.

“Holy water. It’ll help to get some nasty taste from the air out of your system.”

“Thank you.” Kris was grateful for it indeed; his throat had been dry and scratchy ever since he woke up. He quickly downed his bottle and secretly wished for the one in Suho’s hand. The other man must have known for he smiled and surrendered his water ration to the angel. “You can have mine too. I’ll get some tap water.”

After that, they sat down facing one another, each keeping to their side of the wall. Occasionally they traded small, awkward smiles. Kris kept his mouth shut, not wanting to push his luck again. The two of them sat in silence until Suho spoke up again.

“Wu Fan. You call yourself Wu Fan now. Something to do with being  _ordinary._ You’ve always had such a queer sense of humor.” The man laughed softly. Kris thought it sounded like a self-deprecating joke of his fallen status but said nothing. He smiled, encouraging Suho to go on. “I’ve always known it’s not easy to be with someone who doesn’t see the world the way you do, whose vision you can never match. Your other self also told me that he couldn’t be human enough for me. His conclusion— So, don’t try to understand me, just love me. Not the best marriage proposal I’ve got, but probably the most romantic one an angel could have come up with.”

Kris quietly studied Suho as he spoke, the other man was spotting a far-away and wistful look, two fingers with chipped nails pressing slightly on his lips, the laugh lines around his eyes became more apparent but his face softened with a subtle mirth. The fragility of his presence stood in stark contrast to the vastness of the cosmos, coloring his essence with novelty, but the angel knew novelty wasn’t the only thing his other self had seen, wasn’t why he chose to break their sacred principle of equal compassion to embrace this soul, to love an existence that he would long outlive.

“But without understanding, how can love last?” Suho’s voice had dropped down into a murmur, more to himself than to the angel.

“I can’t answer that question for you, Suho. But I can speak for my other self that he is serious about his union with you.” It wasn’t a hazardous guess. Kris knew that much was true. “As for Zitao… I still haven’t figured out how I feel about him. I’ve made a decision that bound our beings in a way that couldn’t be untangled. And you don’t want to be in the midst of it.”

Suho shook his head, his face grim. “I’m sorry I spoke out of spite. It was disrespectful of me. I liked him a lot too, you know. In spite of how I feel, it’s never him that I begrudge. And you told me before our union…”

Kris noted that his other self had not bar any truth from Suho.

“… about you and Zitao. Even before that, I always thought he had left a lasting impression on you. I couldn’t compete against someone like him.”

_I can’t compete against a dead person_  went unsaid, but there wasn’t any trace of resentment in Suho’s tone when he spoke of Zitao’s name, only sadness, grief, and self-reproach.

“It’s not just about him, Suho. If I can fix the past, I can save the Earth and the people live in it too.”

“I know, I know. I just wish… I just wish there were some possibilities for us that don’t involve Zitao dying or disappearing. Also, I wish you had told me before you left.”

Kris nodded, he really did understand. What he had with Zitao was too complicated to involve another person. But now the angel had seen this future, had seen Suho under a different light, he knew he could be with him under different circumstances. He did here, didn’t he?

And their conversation had helped Kris to see things from Suho’s aspect. Just as his other self chose to be with someone whose existence would too soon come passing by, Suho chose to be with someone whom he couldn’t keep from leaving.

The lord of time worked a nasty paradox on them all.

“How long have you been married?” Kris asked.

“Three years. But we’ve been together for most of this time. I still can’t believe that you, I meant, Wu Fan, asked for my hand in marriage, and on his knee too.”

“You can believe it now.” The angel was deadpan, but inwards he was astonished by the imagery of him being on his knee, proposing.

Suho rolled his eyes at him. “Figure of speech, Kris.”

“Will you tell me more about you two?”

“Hm… sure… what do you want to know?”

“The se—“

“NO! Anything but that!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Next morning Suho drove him to a beach nearby. They looked at the sunrise at dawn, spent almost their entire afternoon being silly—splashing freezing water at each other until Suho shivered so badly that they had to retreat to the car, with much reluctance and disappointment on the angel’s part. For lunch they had some dry fruits and beef jerky, and more holy water for Kris. Suho had found a liquor flask he stowed underneath the car and offered it to the angel, to which he politely declined. Not because angels were prudish, only because Kris didn’t enjoy the “acquired” taste of alcoholic beverages. When it was near the hour the rift opened, the angel experienced a feeling he had never felt before—an immense sense of loss. Never before had he channeled his concern and affection at anyone in particular. He had been taught to love with a non-attaching and all-compassing love ever since he came to exist; he had believed it was an unmovable law or an angelic nature, until he came to Earth; until Zitao said it was alright to not be able to love everyone equally; and until this moment.

This version of Suho, whom he came to appreciate, would be gone and Kris would be the only one who remembered.

But how would it feel to be Suho? To be undone and rewritten by the passage of time? Would this mean to the human a type of death, of divine injustice? Would the changes negate the meanings of his life for the past fifteen years?

The angel wished he could know.

Then it came to him in a flash, a compelling idea that was soon determined to take root in his mind. He turned to Suho, who was staring out to the sea with the calm expression of someone who has made peace with Judgment Day.

 “I wish to carry our memories with me. If you allow that.”

 Suho turned around, confusion and astonishment etched his face. “Why? Didn’t you say you would remember?”

Kris smiled at him. “No, I meant, the memories between you and Wu Fan. What you’ve gone through together, the things you said to one another, significant dates, trivial arguments, important events, petty bickering—anything memorable to you. I want to keep them with me. Even if the future changes and you forget, what you’ve had will never truly be lost as long as I live.”

While Suho stared at him with unreadable expression, the angel started to doubt his offer. Perhaps it didn’t mean anything to the human, whether his memories would remain without himself. But before he could apologize, Suho said, breathlessly. “Will you really do that? Of course, I’d like that.”

Kris beamed at Suho, “Thank you.”

“No, thank  _you._ ” The other man shook his head and momentarily turned away, as if to compose himself. Hope and gratefulness shone in his eyes as he faced the angel again. “I’m ready now. Go ahead.”

The angel leant forwards to cup Suho’s face and put their foreheads together, their breath mingled in the closeness of their bodies. Suho pressed his lips together when the angel looked directly at his eyes, but his gaze matched Kris’s steadfast and unwavering one.

“I’ll leave out the bed scenes if you want.” The angel smiled, feeling a little mischievous.

“Dork! Take whatever.” Suho laughed, unfazed. “Just don’t tell me.”

Then the angel reached inside the other man, going through his chambers of memories whose doors had opened wide to welcome him. He touched, tasted, sensed, felt as much as he could. By the time he had returned outside, his Grace shuddered under the weight of the experience.

Callous but gentle thumbs ran across his cheeks, goading his eyes to open. He didn’t remember closing his eyes. His face felt hot and wet.

“Kris, please. Look at me.” He gasped, eyes flying open, Suho’s solemn face graced his view. “You’re crying.”

The angel touched the hands holding his face tenderly.

“I… I didn’t know… love is such a heavy thing to carry…”

_Why do you love? Why do you want it?_

“Have you ever read someone’s mind?”

“Not like this.”

Suho gave him a smile, not unlike a patient parent doting on his child. A true irony when you came to think of the longevity of the angel. “It’s not always like that. There are times I like the weight of it. And don’t tell me you didn’t feel the joy and the lightness of it.” 

“I did… But all those emotions, I don’t have names for them all, such arbitrary and chaotic.”

“They’re not unbearable, I swear. Most of us survive them as you can see.”

“Yes, you’re tougher than we give you credit for.” Kris nodded solemnly; he intended to change that once he returned.

The space around them stretched as the portal ripped open the dimension. His own time-line called for him. It was time to go home. The angel turned to Suho, his eyes took in all the lines and features of the man in front of him.

“Farewell.” The angel said.

Suho shook his head, quietly hooked an arm around the angel’s neck and pulled him into a tight hug just like when they first met here. His lips brushed the angel’s earlobe when he drew back. “Until we meet again.”

Then the angel was gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Suho remained by the beach after the angel had disappeared.

But he didn’t have to wait long before another man appeared on the shotgun seat next to him. “Finally! I’ve been wondering how long before you dragged your feathery ass back.” He huffed and turned around. Welcoming him was the same face he had just wiped the tears away a little while ago. But this time, it was really the face he beheld and caressed every night and day—his Wu Fan, his angel.

His angelic spouse had the nerve to give him a nonchalant shrug. “I think he could know you better when I’m not hovering around like a jealous husband.”

“Did you know he would come? Did you arrange for us to meet?”

“No, honestly, his appearance wasn’t expected. I had planned to go through the rift myself. It was pure coincidence that he met you. The passage of time certainly likes to play pranks, but I think it’s good that he got to know you. Now everything rests on his shoulders. I’ve done my part.”

“Which was running away from me. Again.” Suho growled. “Jackass, were you going to leave without saying goodbye?”

This time Wu Fan looked contrite. “I wanted to make it easier for you.”

“So that I’ll be an oblivious tool, waking up one day thinking I just had a very long wet dream about you?”

“If you want to put it that way… Ouch.” The angel flinched and rubbed his bruised shoulder. “I could have gone through that rift and left my other self with you. You guys seem to hit it off pretty well too.”

“Shut up, that is not funny. Why are you like this? You should stop hanging out with that old fart who thinks he’s so funny!”

“Who? Heechul! Nah, he’s a gem. Admit it, you would like any version of me.”

Wu Fan grinned and twisted sideway to avoid another punch from Suho. But there was not much space in the car so he was soon caught in the other’s strong grip. The angel mimed a grimace, mostly to appeal to his spouse, when he felt his nape being squeezed.

Suho pulled the angel down to his eye level and gave him his fiercest glare.

“Listen! I will say this for the last time,” his voice slightly caught at that, “so beat it into your numbskull. I don’t want just any version of you. I want the you who chose to stay, who ran away and always came back to me. Got it?”

The angel nodded with comprehension. His playfulness was gone, his angelic nature showed in the depths of his solemn eyes. “I didn’t run away from you. I wanted to save the Earth, and so I had no other choice but to change the past, but it was not an easy decision to make. I miss Zitao and I always will, but you and him have different space in my being. Remember this too, Suho, as long as you can: I’ve never regretted our union. I’m just as afraid of the day when I am nothing but a dream you can’t remember.”

Suho blinked.

“Was that why it took you so long to propose?”

In spite of the lump in his throat, Wu Fan laughed heartily. “Yes, I was afraid, so I ran away.”

“But you came back.” The other man pointed out.

“Yes, I did.”

“That’s all that matters.”

Suho grinned. Then he wound both his arms around his angel as Wu Fan arranged his tall frame around him, one arm draping across his back, a hand raking through his short buzz. He buried his nose to the angel’s left shoulder, feeling his breath came in hot, steady and reassuring puffs on his temple.

They clung to each other as if their universe was already shifting and reshaping.

“What is going to happen?” Suho murmured.

“I don’t know.” Wu Fan admitted. “But I’ll remember…”

Wu Fan would remember.

Kris would remember.

Kris would come back to his time-line with the memories of Wu Fan and Suho.

By planting that seed of love in Kris’s membranes, perhaps, there would be a future where Wu Fan and Suho would meet again. They would not be the same people they were now. But Kris, Wu Fan, whoever he would become could fall in love with any person Suho grew to be.

He knew this much was true.

_O Benevolent Lord! Give me the sight to see through the jests and frivolities of Time, lest our future become a disavowed loss—unseen and ungrievable._

**(fin.)  
**

 


End file.
